


'Tis The Season To Be Jolly

by Kerkerian_StopYulin



Series: Merlin and Harry [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Christmas, Coping and healing take time, Dogs, Harry Hart Lives, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post V-Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian_StopYulin/pseuds/Kerkerian_StopYulin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than a year after V-Day, things are slowly beginning to look up. That doesn't mean everything's fine yet, but people are doing their best to get back on track. Luckily for some, they aren't alone in that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Kingsman. Sadly. I'd so be filming sequels right now...

 

Harry Hart was looking forward to the holidays. He and Merlin were going to spend them together, and this year, it was absolutely certain that they would.

They had had Christmases which had been so busy that they hadn't even seen each other; Christmases abroad with sandstorms and barely working radio communication, which had gone by without so much as a fleeting thought about decorated trees and cosiness.

One never knew, of course, how one was going to spend the holidays; sometimes, assignments were foreseeable as a result of political developments or as necessary follow-ups from previous jobs, but sometimes, they came out of the blue. Harry pondered this as he stood in front of a shop window decorated with lots of teddy bears on sleighs, tinsel and fake snow. He had yet to find one with a train set; as a boy, he absolutely loved those.

He looked up and briefly caught his reflection on the glass; his scarred right temple was mostly hidden by the hat he had begun to wear whenever he was going out. "The last gentleman", Merlin had called him when he had first seen it. Harry's right eye was visually impaired by 30% now, a consequence, ironically, not from the shot, but from the impact on the concrete ground and the resulting trauma. Because of that, Harry had been reclassified by their physician, which meant no more active field duty for him either. It had been a blow, to say the least.

Merlin, who had gone through something similar a few years ago when he had lost part of his left leg, hadn't even tried to console him with shallow promises of better times to come, but had let him be, had endured his anger and frustration and sometimes grief with endless patience if no less sorrow.

They had been busy back then, since the world was still in a chaos after V-day, and there hadn't really been much time for personal grievances such as his, or so Harry had told himself, though the other matter which had weighed heavily on him had of course been the church massacre. Harry was aware that he had been manipulated by Valentine's contraptions and thus been unable to control himself, just as the millions of other people. Still, it wasn't an easy issue to come to terms with. He had gone to see a therapist who helped to acquaint him with coping mechanisms; a lot of people didn't even have that option. Suicide rates all around the globe rocketed high, and the often newly and hastily installed interim governments of most countries were helpless in the face of the general despondency they were met with in many regards. People simply couldn't understand what had happened; once they did, they could at least blame Valentine, but in many cases, that didn't suffice. For parents who had killed their children, for example, there simply wasn't any consolation.

 

Merlin had been the motor which had kept Kingsman going during those days; he hadn't only choreographed and stayed on top of the multitude of tasks they had had to tackle, but had also kept up the morale. He had run on little sleep and a seemingly endless supply of adrenaline, and he had still found time to be there for Harry, be it as a shoulder to cry on, a presence acknowledged but ignored or a verbal punching bag when the coping mechanisms failed.

Harry was still ashamed about the latter; he was aware that Merlin didn't resent him those tantrums and knew better than to take them personal; he had at one point gone through similar phases himself, after all, if not for entirely similar reasons. And yet- one evening, Harry had found Merlin all but passed out on the sofa in the lounge, where he had gone to take a brief nap after a prolonged video conference with their overseas branches and an overall very long day which wasn't over yet, and he had looked so terribly exhausted. Harry had been too self-absorbed to notice, and he had felt bad. From that point on, even though he was still struggling to accept his new reality, Harry made an effort not to take it out on his partner so much.

A few months after his return, Harry had unanimously been voted to be the new Arthur, a position Merlin had held temporarily but didn't want to keep. Once Harry, who until then hadn't even been sure that he was going to remain at Kingsman, had accepted it, Merlin went home and for the first time slept for more than five hours. He had been a rock, not only for his partner but for all of them, but even he had his limits.

Christmas had been a rather minor matter in the previous year, the wounds of V-Day and its aftermath still being too fresh; this year however, they had come a long way, and people were in a more cheerful mood. It didn't mean that all was resolved or that the grieving and self-reproaching had stopped, but it was one more step towards normality, towards healing.

 

With one last glance at the garish display, Harry turned to go, huddling deeper into his coat; it was bitterly cold, and he craved some tea. He had just completed his Christmas shopping too and felt quite victorious.

His elation was helped along further when he entered the shop on Savile Row half an hour later and saw the small, tastefully decorated Christmas tree which had been put up.

"Marvellous," he said, addressing no one in particular.

"Sir," Anthony dipped his head in greeting before disappearing in dressing room one. Since the tailor was obviously busy with a fitting, Harry immediately went to the transit.

 

Merlin wasn't at his workstation; Harry found him upstairs in the mansion, where another tree had been put up. It was tradition for those agents who weren't absent at Christmas to attend a small gathering on Christmas Eve, therefore a tree was being put up each year in the library.

When Harry entered, Eggsy was balancing rather precariously on top of a ladder, attaching some baubles to the topmost branches, while Merlin steadied said ladder with one hand in order to keep it from tipping over; in the other, he held his inevitable clipboard.

He looked up from it when Harry stopped at his side: "Arthur," he said, motioning towards the tree with his head,"what do you think?"

"We should give him a pair of wings and put him up on the tree."

"Hilarious," Eggsy said, "I'll laugh later, if you don't mind."

"Nah, he's a tad too big," Merlin quipped. "I know that because he nearly fell into the tree twice already."

"That's because _someone_ repeatedly let go of the ladder to check things on their clipboard," Eggsy commented.

" _Anyway_ ," Merlin said, "Lancelot is coming back from Washington tonight, Percival is already at home, Bedivere and Gawain are still out and about, though we do expect them to return within the next three days. The rest won't be here for Christmas anyway."

Harry nodded; if anything, V-Day had intensified the agents' bonds; those who had survived held their colleagues at HQ in the highest regards.

"I'll bring some homemade eggnog," Eggsy said, rubbing his hands. "It's me mum's special recipe, got less egg and more nog in it, if you catch my drift."

"Looking forward to it," Harry said with a smile. Eggsy had turned out splendidly, and Harry was not only proud of him but also, secretly, of his own instincts.

Right then, they heard a yawn from somewhere underneath the tree, and a moment later, J.B. appeared, blinking. When he saw Harry, he wagged his tail and went to greet him, then sat down in front of Merlin, looking up at him expectantly.

"I wonder who's been giving him treats, eh?" Eggsy said, while Merlin looked supremely innocent: "He just likes me, is all."

 

That evening after dinner, Harry carefully hid the presents he had bought in the far corner of the wardrobe. He could hear Merlin busying himself in the kitchen, making his specialty hot chocolate with whiskey and cinnamon, something he and Harry indulged themselves in if the December weather was cold enough.

They sat down in front of the fireplace in the living room with their beverages. For a while, they only took in the scents as they waited for the hot chocolate to cool a little, staring into the flames.

"Last year, we didn't get to do this once," Harry remarked, and Merlin nodded contemplatively. Harry regarded him over the rim of his mug: "You're pondering," he said, a fond smile in the corners of his mouth.

Merlin sighed, catching Harry's gaze: "Yeah..."

"Something in particular?" Harry asked softly.

"No. The usual," Merlin replied, "Just me getting a wee bit sentimental at Christmas."

He had been crossing off his mental to do-list earlier, as was his habit, and had stopped at 'donations'. Every year ever since he had first earned his own money, he had donated a certain sum to the RSPCA and the local shelter. In the previous year, the money had been needed more than ever, since there had been so many pets whose owners had been killed on V-Day; unbeknownst to anyone, Merlin had sold some of his shares and had thus enabled the shelter to expand and hire more staff. He had done so anonymously and was glad to see that things seemed to be going well.

Under a pretense, namely donating a small sum each month in person, he regularly went there to have a look, and it was difficult not to go home with at least one new dog every time. It had been years since Cody, his last dog, had passed away, and he still missed him, but he simply didn't have the time for one nowadays, or so he told himself. A dog needed exercise and playtime, not to lie around in an office all day. The grounds which surrounded HQ were vast, comprising meadows and woodland, not all of which had been turned into training grounds of sorts, so there was enough room. He still had a box full of balls, frisbees and other dog toys in various states of wear.

Yet Merlin's workload seemed to have doubled since V-Day and he simply didn't see how he was to find enough time for a dog right now. Maybe in a year or two... he sighed inwardly. There was nothing more rewarding than a dog's love, in his opinion, the quiet contentment of snuggling up with it on the sofa, a book in hand and the dog's soft snoring in one's ears, preferably with Harry in the mix.

Apart from that, he had loved it when Cody had curled up under his desk; he had provided a sense of calm and comfort even when things had been hectic. Merlin thought he could do with that again, but at the same time couldn't help but feeling selfish. He wasn't sure how Harry thought about it anyway. After Mr Pickle had died, Harry had said he wasn't prepared for that kind of pain ever again. And he had had enough pain in his life recently, he didn't need Merlin to add to that. Therefore he didn't tell his partner any of this, which seemed a wise thing to do.

 

"We still haven't decided what we'll have for dinner on Christmas Eve," Harry now said, pulling Merlin out of his musings.

"Really? I thought we had."

"Well, the pudding's settled, but then some telephone call or other interrupted us, and we never resumed the topic."

"Huh."

"And I do stand by my earlier statement," Harry said, "that mashed potatoes, creamed spinach and fried eggs do not constitute a festive meal."

"Not _yet_ ," Merlin emphasized, "and that's just because no one's ever made it for Christmas. All traditions have to start _somewhere_."

"Not necessarily in my kitchen, though," Harry said. "Can't we think of something we don't eat every other week anyway?"

"We could put some nutmeg in it," Merlin suggested airily.

Harry buried his face in his free hand in mock despair:"You're hopeless."

 

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

As expected, it was only a small gathering on December 24, but the overall mood was considerably lighter than in the year before and the atmosphere was relaxed.

Once they were all seated around the magnificently laid table, Harry got to his feet: “Since Cook's prepared a sumptuous meal, I'll try to be brief. I do however wish to say that I'm ever so glad all of you are here tonight; each and every single one of your respective performances continued to be brilliant this year, and we didn't have any more losses.”

“Hear, hear!” A few glasses were raised.

Harry smiled before turning serious again: “It is however once again my duty to remind us all of those we have lost in the past.” He raised his glass and the others followed, keeping their eyes on him: “To absent friends,” he said, which was echoed around the table. “Merry Christmas!”

 

“Lovely speech,” Merlin told Harry later. “Brief and to the point. You're a natural.”

Harry, not at all sober anymore, beamed at him: “I do seem to have a knack for addressing a room full of people,” he agreed, looking proud.

Biting back a laugh, Merlin glanced at the other five agents and one physician which were present; he didn't want to spoil Harry's triumph, therefore he nodded: “Aye.”

Eggsy joined them: “Tried the eggnog yet?”

“It's got knock indeed,” Harry grinned. “What's the secret?”

“I ain't telling you, otherwise it wouldn't _be_ a secret, now would it?”

“Oh, come on.”

“You'll have to find out yourself. Like, try and taste what's in it.”

“All right, I think I'm up to the challenge. Merlin?”

“I'm fine, I'll keep to Scotch tonight.”

With an absent smile, Merlin watched Harry and Eggsy wander over to the drinks table.

Roxy appeared at his elbow: “Looks like they have an agenda.”

“Yeah, the eggnog's got it coming. Harry's trying to weasel the recipe out of Eggsy.”

“Good luck with that,” Roxy smirked.

 

In the end, both Harry and Eggsy were far too inebriated to settle the matter. Harry fell asleep in the transit when Merlin and he went home long after midnight; Eggsy, who was riding the train with them, regarded him with an affectionate smile: “He's the guv,” he muttered, “gotta love him.” With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes as well, joining in on Harry's light snoring.

Merlin looked at J.B., who had curled up on the empty seat next to Eggsy and was only pretending to be asleep: “Yep,” he said softly. “You do.”

 

On the following morning, which was Christmas Day, Merlin let Harry sleep. He went into the kitchen, made some strong coffee and read the papers. When Harry appeared an hour later, he looked rather crumpled. Squinting and with a frown, he lowered himself onto a chair: “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Merlin replied, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Eggsy _nogged_ you out?”

“Har har,” Harry's voice was raspy. “I'll have you know that it wasn't only that infernal brew which did me in.”

“Oh, I know,” Merlin grinned. “Later on, Roxy and Bedivere mixed something vile in an unhealthy looking blue shade. You said it was delicious.”

Harry groaned: “Do not remind me.” He lowered his head to the table for a moment: “Stop me next time, will you?”

“I tried. You called me something unsavoury, so I didn't insist.”

Harry groaned again, head still on the table: “God. Idiot. Me. Sorry.”

“It's all right.” Merlin got up and poured Harry some coffee: “I've just had a look at the weather up in Lochinver. They've had snow, and more's to come.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said, looking up at him. “Do you want to go?”

They had discussed flying to Scotland for a few days; Merlin had inherited a small cottage in the Scottish Highlands which was rather cosy.

“If you're up to it?”

“I'll get there,” Harry said, gratefully accepting the coffee and at the same time, reaching for Merlin's hand, keeping it in his own for a moment: “Thank you.”

Merlin smiled at him and Harry once again realized how much he loved this man.

 

 

They arrived in Lochinver late in the afternoon. Once they were done unloading the helicopter, Harry got a fire in the large fireplace going while Merlin put up the small Christmas tree they had brought. The initially chilly air soon warmed up, and by the time they sat down for dinner, it was rather pleasant.

“This is the first and the last time we're having this for Christmas dinner,” Harry said, glancing at his plate of mashed potatoes, creamed spinach and fried eggs.

“I like it with the nutmeg.”

“You're a culinary barbarian.”

“I prefer 'less picky about food'.”

It was true. Harry regarded him with a smile: while he couldn't live without tea and coffee, Merlin tended to forget about food when he was working and no one reminded him that he needed sustenance from time to time. If he did remember though, he just ate whatever he found in the cupboard of the small kitchen near his office. Harry had taken to put a few things in there whenever he was leaving for longer than a day, but the fact remained that Merlin didn't care whether he ate oatmeal or a five star dinner while he was occupied with other things. He did enjoy Harry's cooking though, which was why Harry would have preferred to prepare something more refined, something they didn't have often.

Well, he concluded, at least they were here, in Lochinver, wonderfully secluded and with some time on their hands.

He raised his glass of wine: “Merry Christmas,” he said again. “I'm glad we're here.”

 

After dinner, they retired to the large sofa in front of the fireplace. “I've got one more present for you,” Harry said. They had exchanged presents after their morning coffee, but he had saved this particular one for later; now seemed the right moment.

“You already indulged me earlier,” Merlin replied, but he looked pleasantly surprised nevertheless.

“It's just a small thing.” With a smile, Harry handed him a small parcel.

Merlin unwrapped it carefully and found a little light of the kind one attached to a dog's collar or harness in order to make the animal visible in the darkness.

After turning it over in his fingers a few times, Merlin looked up at Harry: “This is like the one Cody lost when he chased that squirrel.” He sounded slightly choked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “I thought it might be useful.”

“Y-you didn't get a dog, did you?”

“No.” Harry smiled again. “Not yet, anyway. But I've been to a shelter and I've met one which I liked.”

When Merlin frowned at that, he laughed: “He reminded me of you.”

“Don't tell me you've found another one that's only got three legs.”

“No. But he's got a distinctively stern look on his face.”

“Ha bloody ha.”

Harry chuckled.

Merlin turned the light over once more: “You really think it's a good idea?” But in his mind, he was already rescheduling in order to make room for exercise and playtime.

“Since it's one of mine, yes, I do. You're working far too much anyway.” _And in the long run_ , Harry added in his mind, _missing having a dog all the time is nearly as bad as losing one._

Merlin sat slowly shaking his head, but Harry could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Yes,” he eventually muttered in a faraway voice, “okay... we'll get a dog.” He looked at Harry and beamed, clearly delighted, leaning in for a kiss: “Thank you, Harry. Merry Christmas.”

“You're welcome, darling.”

 

**The End**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm not a native English speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes.


End file.
